


The Dangers of Vigilanteing

by aceofwhump



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Diego Hargreeves whump, Diego returns to the Academy, Diego whump, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Diego Hargreeves, Injured Diego Hargreeves, Injury, Luther cares about his family, Luther isn't a total shit in this story, Pre-Canon, Vigilantism, worried Luther Hargreeves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 05:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18404006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofwhump/pseuds/aceofwhump
Summary: Diego gets injured during one of his vigilante acts and is forced to go back to the one place he swore he'd never return: The Umbrella Academy





	The Dangers of Vigilanteing

**Author's Note:**

> Request fill for the-big-cat-dream on my tumblr blog (aceofwhump.tumblr.com)

“What are you doing here?” Luther shouted as he threw another one of the bad guys across the large lobby of the bank. The man crashed into the wall and slid to the ground unconscious.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Diego responded back as he lett one of his knives fly, hitting the shoulder of the guy hiding behind the counter. The man dropped to the ground with a shout of surprise and didn’t get back up.

Diego had been mopping up at the boxing club, earning his place in the boiler room he now called home, when his police scanner announced a bank robbery in progress. He dropped his mop, grabbed his gear and ran out the door throwing his leather harness on as he ran to his car. The various leather straps and holsters he put on his body held a innumerable amount of knives. He always felt more comfortable with the world when he wore it. Years and years of living with those knives in his hands and now he felt naked without them. Diego threw on his black diamond shaped mask, reminiscent of his old Academy mask, and pulled out of the parking lot. He turned the police scanner’s volume on max and listened for the precise location of the robbery.

He expected a couple of guys with maybe a gun or two at one of the smaller banks. They tended to get robbed often due to the size and horrible lack of security. Seriously what’s one old guy pretending he was still able shoot a taser going to do to stop bank robbers? He would drop in quietly and quickly take them out with a knife or two. Easy peasy. He’d be home in an hour or two with a few less thugs on the streets

He didn’t expect the bank robbery to be at the largest bank in the city or for there to be a dozen employees and customers held hostage while a large group of suspicious figures dressed all in black, ski masks and all, pointed semi automatics at them.

Diego also didn’t expect to see his brother crash in from the ceiling and start throwing punches when four of them broke off from the group and started heading towards the large vault in the back. Diego, who was hiding out of sight, observing the situation from afar and waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his move, startled at the loud explosion of concrete and glass that rained down on the bank. He stared in shock at Luther who was wearing his old Umbrella Academy uniform, the tight leather jumpsuit they all wore as kids and black mask making him stand out amongst the richly dressed patrons of the bank. Immediately, Luther started fighting his way through the group of robbers.

As soon as Diego saw Luther start throwing punches, he cursed and broke through the front door, the element of surprise completely gone now thanks to Luther. Luther lifted up a nearby table and threw it at the man coming towards him.

“Dad sent me,” Luther said as the table went flying across the lobby and knocked the man down, “You?”

Diego ducked behind the counter as one of the guys started firing off a few rounds at him. The hostages were screaming, throwing themselves on the ground to avoid the chaos. Diego crouched low and threw another knife. He curved the blade around the corner and towards the sound of the gunfire. It landed in the guys hand making him drop the gun and cry out in pain.

As he jumped back over the counter and into the fray he shouted at Luther, answering his previous question, “I was in the neighborhood.”

The two brothers landed in the center of the lobby at the same time as a momentary lull in the battle settled. They stared at each, sizing one another up, before Luther nodded his head and said, “Okay.”

Diego smirked and nodded back, “Okay. Can we take out these assholes now? Several of them ran off towards the vault before you crashed in and distracted me.”

Luther scoffed at the last part but chose to ignore it for the moment. He nodded his head and gestured for him to go on, “After you Number 2.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Before they could take a step towards the vault, one of the robbers shouted from behind him. Diego spun around and froze. Three of the robbers were holding several hostages at gunpoint and shouting at him and Luther to not move. The hostages knelt on the floor in fear, several of them crying and begging for them not to hurt them.

Diego, without taking his eyes off the robbers spoke to Luther who was standing several feet behind him, “Go to the vault. I got these guys.”

“You sure?” The sound of Luther’s voice told Diego that he was about two seconds away from launching himself at these guys. If that happened the hostages were as good as dead. Luther always did think with his muscles over his brain. Planning ahead wasn’t his forte. Yet another reason Diego thought he should have been the leader.

“Oh yeah,” he said, a wicked smile making its way across his face. “I got this. Go to the vault.”

Diego slowly, and as inconspicuously as possible, drew two knives out of the holsters on his thighs, “This’ll be fun.”

He heard Luther run off after a moment’s hesitation and soon it was just him and the bastards holding guns to the heads of innocent people.

“Get on the ground or I’ll shoot her!” the head douchebag screamed at Diego.

“Alright. Just take it easy,” Diego slowly raised his arms in surrender, waiting for the perfect time to attack.

The guy who was shouting at Diego earlier swung his gun away from his hostage and pointed it at Diego, prepared to shoot him in cold blood.

Diego smirked. Just what he was hoping he’d do. Got you now, you asshole.

Now that the gun wasn’t trained on an innocent he could make his move without worrying about the idiot shooting his hostage. He threw back his wrist and released one of the knives at lightning speed. The man fell to the ground grasping at the knife now imbedded in his throat. He was dead before his hit the ground.

All hell broke loose once the man hit the ground. The other two turned their weapons on Diego and fired. The hostages slammed themselves to the ground to avoid being hit while Diego dove for the nearby counter. Bullets flew towards him and Diego leapt across the room, throwing the second projectile at the second gunman as he dodged the flying bullets. Right as he let go of his knife he felt something strike him in the ribs but he ignored it and threw his last knife at the final gunman. He went down just like the first shooter, knife hitting him straight in the heart.

Diego landed behind the counter and crouch low as bullets from the third man’s gun rained down upon the counter. He pulled out another knife and aimed it. Letting the knife fly, he felt it curve through the air towards its intended target. The guy would never know what hit him. A grunt of pain and the absent sound of gunfire told Diego his knife hit its mark.

He stood up from his hiding place behind the counter and found all three gunmen dead, the hostages slowly getting up from their crouched positions on the floor and looking around in fear and confusion.

Diego heard footsteps coming from behind him. He whirled around, prepared to throw another projectile but stilled when he saw Luther coming around the corner. He relaxed and put his knife away, already looking around for his other knives which were scattered around the lobby. He tried not to leave any behind if he could help it. It wouldn’t be good if the cops picked them up as evidence considering he wasn’t supposed to be doing this kind of stuff. So he went to the closest bad guy and yanked his knife out of his chest, wiping the blood off on his shirt and putting it back in its holster.

“I heard gunshots. Everything okay?” Luther asked, slightly out of breath from his own fight.

“All good. What about the guys in the vault?”

“They’ve been taken care of,” Luther said as he rushed over to the scared hostages and tried to calm everyone down.

Diego hummed in reply and leaned over to pick up another knife. As he bent over his vision whited out and a sharp spike of pain shot through his chest causing him to pitch forward and land shakily on knees. He caught himself from falling completely on his face by slamming a hand to the ground and squeezing his eyes closed. The pain continued to increase and he bit back a groan. He pressed a hand to his ribs, where he remembering feeling something slam into him earlier, and felt wetness. He pulled his now shaking hand away and saw dark red blood coating it.

Fuck!, he swore. He’d been shot.

Diego quickly glanced at Luther but he hadn’t noticed anything amiss. He helping an older woman stand and reassuring the others that they were okay now. Diego picked up the stray knife and stood up, moving stiffly, one arm pressed to his side trying to stem the flow of blood without alerting anyone (mainly Luther) to the fact that he was bleeding. He was grateful for the black outfit he wore because it hide the blood rather well.

He slowly made his way around the room, pushing down the pain, and gathered the last of the remaining knives. By the time he picked up the last one he was breathing hard and sweating. His side was now covered in blood and he was getting weaker. He felt a bit light headed and wobbly. Definitely losing too much blood, he thought.

Diego heard the increasing sounds of sirens coming towards to the bank. That was his cue to sneak out of the bank, preferably before the cops arrive, and take care of his injury. He stifled another groan of pain and turned towards the exit, focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

Luther stopped him before he made it out of the lobby, “Diego wait! Where are you going?”

Diego did his best to look nonchalant as he turned around slowly to address his brother. “Gotta split before the cops get here,” he explained.

Luther looked a little put out but he nodded his acceptance, “Okay. Well...It was good to see you Diego.”

“...See you around Luther.”

 

* * *

 

  
The drive back to the boxing club was a blur to Diego. Focused on preventing himself from passing out and bleeding out in his car, Diego didn’t really remember the drive back. Someone he managed to arrive more or less in tact and stumbled into the gym, one hand pressed to the wound on his ribs as he tried to staunch the blood freely flowing through his fingers.

It hadn’t slowed down since he left the bank and he was pretty sure there was no exit wound which meant he had a bullet he needed to get out. The hospital was out of the question. How would he explain how he got shot? They’d end up calling the cops and he really didn’t have time to deal with that. No he’d have to try and take care of himself.

Diego ignored the worried glances from the boxers around the gym and stumbled to the boiler room he now called home. A lot of the boxers who frequented the gym had gotten to know the stranger who lived in the boiler room. Some only knew he mopped the floors at the end of the day. Those who were here more often knew it was more than that. He was a part of the gym. Most didn’t question when he walked in strapped to the nines with various sharp and deadly weapons. Nor did they didn’t question why he occasionally walked in bleeding. Like now for instance. A few thought about offering assistance but they knew Diego would just brush them off and move on. He always did. So they glanced at him, made sure he made it down the hall okay, and returned to their sparring.

Throwing open the door to his room, Diego all but fell down the stairs to his first aid supplies. He dug out the box from under the sink and fumbled at the case’s clatch. He frowned at the meager offerings his first aid kit now offered. He hadn’t replaced most of the items after the last time he was injured and he certainly didn’t have enough to take care of the bullet lodged in his side. Sighing, he grabbed the remaining bundles of the gauze to put together a temporary bandage that would hopefully slow the bleeding.

Diego moved to his bed and plopped down. Removing his hand from the wound he winced at the flow of blood. He quickly pressed the gauze to the wound and pressed down hard. Pain exploded through him and he groaned, his vision tunneling for a minute before he got a handle on the pain.

As the stabbing pain died down to roar, he finished wrapping up his ribs, grabbed a jacket to help with the cold that was now seeping into his body (a sure sign that he was losing too much blood) and summoned up all the energy he could.

He made his way back outside and climbed into this car, momentarily resting his head against the back of the seat as he caught his breath. He didn’t have the energy nor the time to go shopping for new supplies and he couldn’t go to the hospital. There was one other option but Diego loathed it. He’d run away from that place for a reason. But if he didn’t get this wound taken care of soon it wouldn’t matter. He didn’t have a choice. Back to the Academy he went.

Diego groaned for an entirely different reason than the pain in his side and reluctantly made his way to the mansion that had once been his home. When he left at the age of 18 he swore he wouldn’t come back but he knew he didn’t really have a choice. He needed help from someone who wouldn’t ask questions or report him to the police.

Diego turned the radio on while he drove, hoping the litany of voices would help him stay focused. Halfway to the mansion the radio station began to speak about the “return of the Umbrella Academy” and how two of the masked heroes had just saved a bunch of people at a bank. The thought of him being associated with the Academy again pissed him off and he punched the button to turn the radio off, effectively shutting off any further discussion on the topic. He’d spent years trying to separate himself from being “the Kraken”. Will this stupid city ever forget? That was one of many reason he hated that Vanya wrote that stupid book. Maybe people would have forgotten if she didn’t write her tell all book about them.

The house came into view and Diego pulled down the back alleyway. He put the car in park and slowly pushed himself out the car. Clenching his jaw against the pain, he pressed a hand to his bleeding ribs and stumbled through the door leading into the kitchen. This was the one place he knew Dad wouldn’t be. He’d just go in, hopefully unseen by anyone, grab some supplies from the infirmary and get the hell out of here. Easy.

Unfortunately things didn’t go according to plan. Did they ever? As he painfully made his way towards the stairs, one step at a time, breathing harshly against the pain, he ran smack into Luther.

Fuck! So much for in and out unseen.

Luther stopped in his tracks, eyes wide in surprise at seeing his brother twice in one day. He had changed out of his uniform and was now wearing regular a pair of jeans and and a simple t-shirt.

Diego watched as Luther’s face went through half a dozen emotions including surprise and confusion before he noticed the blood now dripping onto the floor beneath Diego. The sight of blood seemed to kickstart his brain.

“Diego? What-? Is that blood!? You’re bleeding! Ho-hold on. I’ll go to get dad!” Luther panicked. He started to head back up the stairs but stopped abruptly when one of Diego’s knives imbedded itself on the wall in front of him. Luther spun around and was startled by the aggressive anger on Diego’s face.

“Don’t! If you go get Dad I'll leave right now. I don't care if end up dying in alley, I’m not seeing that bastard. Don't you fucking tell him I'm here.”

“Are you insane? You need help! Why didn’t you go to the hospital?” Luther was still surprised by the vehemence in Diego’s tone but his desire to help his brother overtook anything else. Even though they argued with each other over everything, he loved his brother and right now he looked terrible. “Should I get Mom?”

“No. Don’t bother mom. I just needed supplies to get the bullet out. I didn’t have what I needed at home. Knew Pogo would keep this placed well stocked.”

“Bullet!? You were shot? Jeezus, Diego.”

Diego didn’t have the energy to argue with Luther anymore. He started to move forward again but his knees gave out on him, the blood loss finally taking its toll. He reached out to catch himself but missed the wall and fell to the ground in a heap. He bit back a scream as the wound in his stomach burned fiercely. Fire raced through him and he curled up into a ball, desperate to quell the pain eating at him. Darkness slowly edged his vision as oblivion finally took him.

 

* * *

 

 

Diego woke up slowly, awareness coming one sense at a time. The sound of faint beeping behind him. The feel of the sheets beneath him. The bright light streaming in behind closed eyes. The smell of antiseptic. The dull ache of pain in his side.

He shifted and groaned as the dull ache grew to an annoying throb. He pried his eyes open and found himself surrounded by the familiar sights of the Academy infirmary.

“You’re awake!”

Diego turned his head towards the sound of the voice. Luther was sitting in a chair next to him, eyebrows raised in surprise and the hints of a smile on his face.

“Luther? What happened?”

“You passed out and were bleeding pretty badly so I carried you to the infirmary.”

“Did you do this?” Diego gestured to the bandage wrapped around him. They had all been trained in basic first aid but he didn’t know Luther knew how to remove a bullet. Mom always handled that kind of stuff. Diego had learned due to necessity but he’d be surprised if Luther had actually taken the bullet out of him.

“No. Mom did. She’d be here but she said she had something else to do for Pogo and Dad. Don’t worry she won’t say anything to them about you being here. I made sure since you were so adamant about it earlier. Oh and she said that the wound wasn’t too bad. Didn’t hit anything major. She pulled the bullet out and patched you up. You should be fine with a few days of rest.”

Diego shifted and felt the pull of something on his his hand. He raised his arm and blanched at the sight of a needle sticking out of him. Quickly looking away so he didn’t puke or faint, Diego shut his eyes tight and focused on not passing out. Don’t think about the needle currently attached to your skin. Don’t think about the needle. His skin grew clammy and he began to tremble. He was pretty sure he was about to pass out when Luther grabbed him lightly by the arm and pulled him back to reality.

“You alright? You don’t look so good. Maybe I should go get Mom again. I’m not the best at this.”

“Stop. ‘m fine. Just...just give me a minute,” Diego said, shaking off Luther’s arm. He took a second to pull himself back together before quickly yanking the needle out of his hand and carefully climbing off the table. His legs were still weak and the movement made him dizzy. His hand darted out to grab the edge of the bed while he waited for the lightheadedness to die down again. He heard Luther chuckle and shot a glare at him.

Luther stopped chuckling under Diego’s glare. “Sorry,” he apologized. “It’s just..the big bad, knife wielding vigilante is still scared needles?”

“Shut up. At least I don’t have my head shoved up dad’s ass.”

“Diego!”

“Luther!”

The two of them glared at one another before Luther spoke again. “Did this happen at the bank?” he asked seriously.

“What do you care?” Diego replied as he attempted to walk again. He winced as the action pulled on his newly stitched up wound but ignored the pain and started to gather up the items he needed.

“You’re my brother, of course I care. Why didn’t you say anything? I could have helped.”

“Didn’t concern you.”

“That’s bullshit. You should have told me you were hurt.”

Diego ignored him and shoved several clean bandages, some pain meds, and other first aid supplies he was out of into a bag and headed out the door. He was halfway down the stairs when he heard Luther shout after him.

“Diego, wait! Are you really just gonna leave like that? You passed out! You’ve lost a lot of blood. You should rest.” Luther’s voice followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen. Diego spun on his heel to face him and had to reach out and grab the nearest table chair to keep himself upright as a wave of dizziness hit him. He squeezed his eyes closed until it passed and he felt he equilibrium return.

“What do you want me to say Luther? I’m fine. I can take care of myself. Been doing it for a long time now.”

Luther crossed his arms over his chest and scoffed, “Yeah clearly.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Diego shot back.

“I mean you’re reckless. You always have been. You got hurt today and you could have died. Dad trained us better than that. You could have been killed because you didn’t know what you were doing. You shouldn’t have even been there. You left the academy of your own free will. You have no business acting like you’re still apart of it!”

“Fuck you, Luther. At least what I do actually helps people. You’re still trapped in this stupid bubble that Dad built for you. You can’t see the truth. Dad doesn’t know shit about leading a team. He really doesn’t know how to be a fucking father. He fucked us all up and yet here you are, still blindly following his orders. One of these days you’re blindness is gonna get you killed.”

“I’m not the one who got shot today.”

Diego had enough. He shook his head in frustration and turned around heading for the exit once more. Nothing he could say would change anything. Luther would always follow their follow. Always do what he said. Always believe what he told him. He couldn’t listen to any more of Luther’s bullshit. He was leaving. Now.

“Diego!”

Diego stopped, one hand on the door handle, and turned his head slightly. He kept his back to Luther but turned far enough to show Luther he’d wait to hear what he had to say. One last chance.

“I- I just...take care of yourself, okay?” Luther said, “And for what’s it worth, it was good to see you.”

Diego swallowed, his emotions getting the better of him momentarily. He tamped them down and turned to look Luther in the eyes, “Someday you’re going to realize that Dad isn’t the perfect father you believe him to be. And when that happens, don’t come crawling to me.”

Luther was startled by the harshness in Diego’s voice but recovered quickly and looked at Diego with irritation and disappointment. A look Diego had gotten many times from his brother before.

Without another word, Diego opened the door and stepped into the night leaving this house, Luther, and his past behind him once more.

 


End file.
